


30. Sell my soul

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [44]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Audio Format: MP3, But not in a happy way, Dabbling in dark arts/deals with unknown entities, Gen, Guilt, I named the prince Giovanni a long time ago and I'm way too used to it to change it so deal with it, Post-Canon, Sort of a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9311324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: The breath caught in his throat as Giovanni stared at the figure lying on the ground where only emptiness had existed moments ago. With shaking hands he swept back sweat-drenched hair, thoughts swirling in his head. He hadn’t truly thought it would work. Magic, sorcery, dark arts, whatever one would want to call it. He wasn’t one for superstitions, preferring instead to believe in what he could see and hear.And now he saw…





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ambrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrose/gifts).



The breath caught in his throat as Giovanni stared at the figure lying on the ground where only emptiness had existed moments earlier. With shaking hands he pushed back sweat-drenched hair, thoughts swirling in his head. He hadn’t truly thought it would work. Magic, sorcery, dark arts, whatever one would call it. He wasn’t one for superstitions, preferring instead to believe in what he could see and hear.

And now he saw…

It had been a desperate attempt. Valentine was distraught, only a shadow of the bright boy he used to be. The palace felt so empty and quiet without the person who had brought so much life into its halls. The servants didn’t go unaffected either, walking around with dull eyes and tear-stained faces. He had thought he would be able to avoid his guilt by focusing on his duties, but there was no avoiding the loss of a presence larger than life itself.

The only thing that had managed to somewhat curb his anger—his guilt—had been the revelation that the Capulet and Montague families were just as badly hurt as he. They, too, had lost their heirs and the joy and life of their families. Their misery had been just as strong as their shared hatred, and it had warmed his frozen heart to see it. It was enough for him to pretend he was satisfied by it, but only for a little while. Then came the meals where only silence reigned, where Valentine quickly begged his leave without eating more than a few bites. He couldn’t say anything, didn’t even know where to begin, so he let the boy run. Much like what he himself was doing.

The book on his desk had just showed up one day. It wasn’t an item he had seen before, the title not part of his personal library, and the servants all swore it hadn’t been there when they had cleaned the room earlier. It had simply appeared.

Wherever it had come from it was clearly meant for him, and as he thumbed through the pages the text told him of hidden secrets and forbidden knowledge, ways of bringing a loved one back to life. It was foolishness, a product of a disturbed mind, he decided before putting it aside. What it spoke of defied the natural ways of the world and the words of God, and he knew he should have destroyed it. Still there was something—a flash of a smile—that stopped his hand.

He returned to read it, again and again.

Valentine was growing weaker, wasting away more and more each day. Giovanni's own duties weren’t enough to distract him any longer, his mind returning to the person they both had lost. The guilt was eating away at him; if he had only been stricter, would the fight have happened? If he had been stronger, put down his ultimatum far earlier than he had, there might still have been lives lost, but not among his loved ones. If only he could go back, if only he could change the events that had happened, if only he could make it better—but he couldn’t. The past was not something that could be changed, no matter how badly one might wish. But maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to change the past itself.

The idea wouldn’t leave him after that, haunted him just as much as the missing presence in his life. He read every word in that book and procured every necessary part, ignoring the looks of his personal servant. It was his last chance, the only hope he had left. He would willingly give whatever he had, sacrifice whatever was demanded of him, as long as the ritual worked. He would let himself fall into damnation, as long as that laughter could ring through the palace once more.

And now, in front of him was the proof that his desperation had worked, that his actions weren’t wrong. Everything would be fine, Valentine would smile again, the palace would live again. He had the chance to apologize and make everything _right_ again.

The figure jerked and took a deep breath, looking around with wide eyes.

“Mercutio?” Giovanni asked softly.

His only answer was an unending scream filled with anguish and fear.


End file.
